


Untroubled

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [80]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Feelings, Femslash, Fix-It, Foreplay, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:59:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pam isn't above stealing moments with Tara when she really wants them, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untroubled

**Author's Note:**

> Part three, "Lovely Intermission."

“Roll over,” Pam purrs in Tara’s ear.

Tara sighs, almost grumbling.  “Did you let me sleep in?” she asks.

“Figured you were due a night of relaxation,” Pam says.  “Eric’s doing the boring errands stuff tonight, little sis took her baby girlfriend over to dead asshole’s plantation house for some alone time.”

“Nora and Jess?”

“God only knows,” Pam says.  “The less I know about whatever Anne of Green Gables does with her free, probably sexual, time, the better.”

“But what Great-Auntie does isn’t as appalling?” Tara teases.

“At least Nora’s a grown-up,” Pam shrugs.  “But I didn’t exactly arrange for us to be alone just to whine about the rest of the family.”

“That’s devious,” Tara murmurs.  

“I’m hungry.  Roll over.”

Tara raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t budge.  “I don’t think you mean the gettin’ dinner way,” she murmurs with a smirk.   She can tell exactly what Pam means, but it’s so much more fun to make her admit it.

“Hell no I don’t,” Pam growls.  “I’m gonna flip you if you don’t move in fifteen seconds.”

Smugly, Tara nestles into her pillow.

“Brat,” Pam says.  “Ten.”

“You said relaxation,” Tara croons.

“So I’m not gonna make you do any work,” Pam insists.  “Stop bein’ stubborn.”

“Stop bein’ arrogant,” Tara retorts.

Pam rolls her eyes, then takes Tara by the shoulders to turn her over.  She knows that if Tara wasn’t just fucking around, she wouldn’t let herself be moved, so it’s something of a relief when she lets herself be flipped easily, rolling onto her back with a lazy smile and putting her hands behind her head.  “Well, if I don’t have to do work,” she says.

“Pay me back some other night,” Pam agrees, running a fingertip along Tara’s inner arms contemplatively.  “I’m feelin’ indulgent.”

Tara turns to watch the trail of Pam’s touch, affecting ambivalence (even though that move really does it for her, and she knows Pam can tell that).  “Will wonders never cease,” she murmurs.  “Pamela Swynford de Beaufort doesn’t indulge.”

“You’re a rare case,” Pam murmurs, moving down the bed (their new sheets haven’t arrived yet, so these are the gray ones that were here when they arrived) and dropping kisses on Tara’s skin.  They haven’t even been bothering with sleepwear lately.  “There were men who paid me for indulgence, but it doesn’t count toward the fact that I  rarely  indulge of my own choosing.”

Tara’s still learning how to react when Pam mentions her past.  She doesn’t do it often, which might be because she doesn’t feel compelled to or might be because she doesn’t want to get into it or might be because it just doesn’t matter, and she rarely does it in any voice but the aloof one she’s using now; she doesn’t react well to pity (not that Tara herself has ever offered it) and teasing seems inappropriate but sometimes it sounds like she’s trying to get  some  reaction.

“Well, I’d say it makes sense that I’m on the receiving end, all things considered,” she finally settles on saying.  One of her hands slides out to stroke Pam’s hair and Pam sits straight up to put it back in place.

“Not a chance,” she scolds.  “Indulgence.  I’m spoiling you, not the other way around.  Don’t move until I say to, got it?”

Smirking, Tara repositions herself. “Got it,” she says.  

“Good,” Pam hums, flattening herself out again.  “I do wanna hear what you’re thinkin’, though.”

That’s new, sort of.  Yes and no are always on the table, of course, but especially when the narration can get sentimental, Pam doesn’t usually seem to want it.  She’s been getting calmer and calmer about these things, lately, though.

Which is why Tara feels comfortable starting with, “I love you.”  And why, after a moment, she feels comfortable adding, “I’m still kinda shocked how easy it is for me to say that to you.”

Pam hums, nuzzling up to Tara’s thigh and kissing tenderly.  “You, too,” she says against Tara’s skin.  “To both.”  Before she can get any farther down that train of thought, though, she shakes her head and kisses higher up Tara’s leg.

“Fuck, you taste nice,” she murmurs.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” Tara teases.

“I’ve lived long enough to wonder if someone tastes better if you like ‘em,” Pam shrugs.  “I’m goin’ with yes, in your case.  I could keep tastin’ you all night.”

Tara laughs.  “If you get your wish tonight you’re gonna,” she says.

“Good point,” Pam says, grinning lasciviously before she moves in to start kissing Tara’s clit.

“What the hell’s gotten into you tonight?” Tara asks after a moment of that.  “Normally you don’t act like this unless someone’s almost died.”

“You’re talkin’,” Pam groans.  “I’m treatin’ you special.”

Tara snorts.  “You’ve been talkin’ plenty and not kissin’ nearly enough,” she counters.  “So c’mon, what’s up?”

Pam doesn’t immediately answer; instead, she focuses her attention on living up to her promise.  The fact is, she’s not sure what got her in this mood.  She’s not used to spontaneous urges to show love.  But she woke up next to Tara, sprawled out over this needlessly giant bed looking like some erotic fairy tale princess with her hair all loose and curly and free, and the thought occurred to her: maybe waiting for something shitty to happen to be nice is overrated.

And Tara, for her part, is quick to let the question slide when her Maker’s mouth is on her like this.  So instead of being an asshole and pressing it, she settles for a moan of satisfaction, one that’s soon repeated.

 

* * *

 

“You guys,” Jessica’s voice comes through the door.

Tara, currently riding off the high of her fifth orgasm, makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.  “So much for bein’ left alone,” she jokes.

“I’ll tell her to go the fuck away if you’re still not satisfied,” Pam coos.

“I’m not ever gonna be totally satisfied,” Tara murmurs.  “That’s why it’s a good thing there’s forever ahead.”


End file.
